


The Cannibal and the Lamb Prequel

by kronette



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Biting, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Prostitute Will Graham, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: I couldn't solidify Will's past while writing his first discussion with Hannibal. After far too many attempts, I simply wrote out Will's time in Chesapeake City in another document and kept it for reference. Seems silly to write nearly 13,000 words and not share, so here is Will's time as a prostitute. Hardly anything in this story but sex with men and women. This may not be 100% accurate in relation toThe Cannibal and the Lamb, as I expanded the main story and didn't update this draft.
Relationships: Will Graham/Original Female Character(s), Will Graham/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 12





	The Cannibal and the Lamb Prequel

Phyllis died two months before the end of Will’s senior year of high school. Crawford noticed her illness too late and spent the final five weeks of her life at her bedside, trying to convince her to go to the hospital. Crawford wanted her to _live_ , but not for her. Because he was a selfish pig of a man who only saw his life being upended. 

The moments when Crawford was called away, Will knelt beside the bed, kissed her gently and smoothed the lines of pain that marred her forehead. Gone was the defiant, proud woman who had taken him to bed; in her place was this fragile, weak, wisp of a figure. 

At her funeral, Will was allowed to sit behind Crawford but only because people knew him as a ward of the Crawfords; not out of any courtesy from the man. Will tried to be brave as Phyllis had asked of him, but silent tears slipped down his cheeks as the casket was closed and the pall bearers lined up.

He was not permitted to attend the gravesite service. Instead, Will went back to the house, packed his belongings, stole a picture of Phyllis from the photo album, and left. 

He had no destination in mind, no friends who could put him up for the night. He ended up at a Salvation Army shelter, grateful for a safe place to rest. He started to look for work in the morning, getting a job at a soda shop. He could barely buy food, and when the owner caught him sampling the merchandise to appease his grumbling stomach, he was fired. 

He attempted to pick pockets, but he was out of practice and people were more wary of a 17 year old than they were a 14 year old, and he couldn’t afford to get caught. Sweltering in the summer heat, not able to survive on $18 a month, he hitchhiked out of town, only vaguely aware of an idea of what he was doing. 

When he walked into the heart of Chesapeake City’s more colorful district, he was approached by several men in rapid succession, promising him that he could make $10 to $15 a week with his looks. He shook his head and headed for the shelter, but they were full for the night. He got a meal, but no place to stay. His resolve weakened with each passing hour, not wanting to subject himself to sweaty strangers pawing over his skin, kissing him, fondling him, fucking him…

He retched into an alley, losing the meal he’d just eaten. He pressed his forehead against the still-warm bricks, hot tears stinging his eyes and trailing down his neck. His imagination turned them into fingers stroking along his skin, tightening, forcing him to his knees or onto his stomach and he retched again, groaning piteously as his stomach cramped, doubling him over. 

He clutched his bag with the entirety of his worldly possessions to his chest and hid behind a row of trash cans, not caring about the rancid smell. He managed some fitful sleep, but the heat of the morning sun and his fear wouldn’t let him rest. He went back to the shelter for breakfast and asked about jobs.

After a day of inquiring at every shop on the list the shelter had given him, he had no job and no prospects. He’d had better luck in Baltimore but he couldn’t bring himself to hitchhike back home and try to live on pitiful wages. Men once again propositioned him to come inside the air conditioned casinos and clubs, enticing him with mouth-watering descriptions of food and promises that he’d be well taken care of. 

To his shock, a woman’s voice joined in the cacophony, beckoning him with her sweet voice. “You don’t belong out here.” 

His chin trembled; her kind eyes were almond shaped, a deep brown that matched her skin, and her generous smile pulled his feet toward her. “I—I’m not…”

“Shh,” she quieted him with soft fingertips against his mouth. “It’s not necessary to explain anything. This is the place to reinvent yourself. You aren’t anyone from anywhere when you get here, but you become who you want to be before you leave. Is that what you’re looking for?” 

He wasn’t exactly _afraid_ , but his stomach roiled at the idea of sex with strangers, not knowing anything about them, probably not even their real names. _Do whatever it takes to survive_ his father’s voice whispered to him, and with a hard swallow and a drag of his hand across his exhausted, watery eyes, he breathed out, “Yes.” 

He startled as the woman took him inside the club and guided him to the back rooms, his nervousness causing him to crush his bag to his chest. 

Listening to the sounds behind the closed doors they passed, the grunts and gasps and high pitched moans of bodies coming together in an act that had been so loving between him and Phyllis, reduced to its lowest meaning. 

He slowed, then stopped walking, unable to see through the tears blurring his steps. “I can’t,” he stuttered, bowing his head and clenching his fingers around the handle of his bag. 

A gentle hand touched his shoulder. “You’ve had sex before, haven’t you?” He managed a nod. “It was with someone you cared about.” He nodded again and sniffed, watching tears drip onto his sleeve. 

“How old are you, honey?”

He had to swallow several times before he could make his voice work again. “Eighteen.” 

“My name’s Alexandra. What name do you want me to call you?” 

His whirling brain latched onto the phrasing; not _his name_ but what he wanted to be called. She wanted him to use a fake name, so he wouldn’t feel like it was really _him_ when he…fucked. “Graham,” he answered after a moment, not willing to completely lose his sense of self. He might be whoring out his body, but he wasn’t going to give up _everything_ that made him Will Graham. His father would never forgive him if he gave up his identity, but he could hide it within a construct of someone else.

She didn’t ask for a last name and he didn’t offer one. She took him into an office and had him fill out some paperwork, then handed him a contract that he took his time reading. Fifteen dollars minus $4 for laundry and board, every week. He would have to buy his own food, but he could stretch out the barest meals so he wouldn’t faint from hunger. If he could stomach it, if he could make this work, he could earn enough in a few months to return home. 

Mandatory doctor check-ups every other week—he blanched but Alexandra assured him it was standard procedure at all the back rooms. 

He felt his face burning as he read further. “You supply condoms?” he heard his voice squeak and blushed harder. 

“Woman have a hard time buying them from the pharmacy. This saves time and embarrassment for them. We consider it a courtesy, protecting the worker as well as the client.” 

He nodded, not trusting his voice and continued reading. He stopped at a paragraph and pushed the paper away. “No. I won’t give up rights to my body. I don’t want men as clients.” 

“Where does it say you _have_ to take clients?” Alexandra asked, her tone light but Will heard the undercurrent of steel. 

“There,” he pointed, pressing down hard on the words to stop his finger’s trembling. “ _If approached on the floor you must accept whatever offer is given_. I thought Houses would treat their workers better than those on the streets.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “We do.” 

His palms were sweating and his heart was making its way up his throat, but he stood his ground and met her gaze squarely. “Then take that declaration out of my contract. I’ll choose my clients and they will only be women. You agree to that and I’ll sign.” 

Alexandra stared at him and he stared back, unflinching, growing more resolute the longer she tried to wear him down. Finally, with an annoyed sigh, she scribbled “VOID” through the paragraph and signed her name in the margin. “There. Now sign.” 

He calmly took the contract back and continued to read through until the end, making sure there were no dates or time periods of employment requirements before picking up the pen and signing his new fake name, Graham Willis. 

He dressed as Alexandra instructed, letting her tease out his curls until they were a mess and falling into his eyes. She sat with him at the bar, telling him about what was expected of him and what clients weren’t allowed to do as he scanned the faces of the crowd. 

It didn’t strike him that he was looking for a kind face for his first client until he spotted the woman, barely older than himself, sitting at a table along the wall. An older man, probably her father, had just gotten up and the relief that transformed her features resonated in him. “Can I approach her?” he interrupted Alexandra’s droning voice, leaning forward in his chair to get a better look at the woman through the smoky haze of the room. 

“You’re not ready to take a client.” Will didn’t understand why Alexandra sounded annoyed; wasn’t it his job to get clients? 

“I sense a need in her. I think I can help,” he answered, sliding off the stool. “She pays the guard before we go into a room, right?” he asked, though he knew the answer. He’d memorized everything he’d seen since stepping foot in the club and everything Alexandra had told him about how the club and back room was run. The only uncertainty he felt was in being able to convince the woman that she wanted to have sex with him. 

Walking up to the table, he wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. Her gaze touched him from head to toe, but he couldn’t tell if she was interested or not. “May I have this dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. 

To his relief, she accepted, and he made small talk until the song ended. “I like you, Betty,” he said, not relinquishing her hand. He kept her at the edge of the dance floor, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. “I’d like to get to know you better, if you’ll permit me.”

Betty’s face lit up with a knowing grin. “Are you propositioning me after one dance?”

He smiled nervously. “Possibly. If you’re interested.” 

“My father would kill me,” she demurred, resting her hand deliberately on his elbow. 

“He wouldn’t dare. You are far too beautiful,” Will complimented her easily, stepping closer until his nose could brush along her cheek. 

“You’re trying to seduce me, Graham,” she murmured, her entire look one of flirtatious interest. 

His grin widened. “Is it working?” he asked plaintively before steering her toward the back rooms. 

Despite her young age, she seemed to know exactly what to do. Folded bills were slipped to the guard and Will was directed to a room. He kissed her, gentle and soft which she returned equally as timid. She was patient with his nervous fumbling at the buttons on her dress, content to keep her hands on his shoulders as he knelt to remove her stockings and shoes. 

“Um, do you want to undress me?” he asked, feeling heat on his face and unable to look at her. It wasn’t until he noticed her quietness that he sensed her unease. She held her dress against her body, not letting it fall and was staring at his shoes.

“I’ve never seen a naked man before,” she murmured.

Seeing her nervous settled some of his nerves. “Neither have I,” he joked, tucking a finger under her chin and lifting it gently. She finally met his eyes, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment. “And I’ve only seen one woman naked. If you want, you can slip under the covers while I undress…”

“No.” Her expression was determined but her voice betrayed her nervousness. It was his turn to watch as she unbuttoned his shirt with clumsy fingers, her fingertips skittering across his chest as it was exposed. 

He tipped his head and kissed her, more firmly this time and she reciprocated, her hands landing firmly on his chest and stroking upward. He slid his hands along her back and up to her shoulder, gently easing the strap off her shoulder. 

Half dressed, they stumbled to the bed and crawled beneath the sheets, Will half atop Betty as the kiss grew more urgent. Her hands were insistent at his back, shoving at his shirt and he pulled it the rest of the way off and tossed it aside. He kissed down her throat, between her breasts, easing her dress down to her waist. 

When his fingers pressed inside Betty, her nails dug into his shoulders and she flushed beautifully down her neck and chest. Will followed the path with his lips and tongue, teasing her until his fingers were wet and her hands had slipped to his ass, clenching at his underwear. 

He’d learned how to put on a condom from Phyllis and the refresher he’d gotten from Alexandra, but he still felt awkward and inexperienced. He buried his face in Betty’s neck as he buried his dick in her, loving the breathy moan that whispered past his ear. 

He was not fully hard when he entered her, but he grew harder as she gathered her courage. Tentative touches became sure, shy lips parted to his inquisitive tongue, her body rising to meet his as his thrusts became more urgent. 

He thought about fucking this stranger, being inside her but not even knowing her last name, how old she was, or why she’d allowed herself to be fucked by a stranger. It kept his mind off his impending orgasm, waiting to feel her clench around him as Phyllis had done, her back arching and fingers leaving painful bruises in his skin. Only then did he finish, allowing his mind to blank for those few seconds of pleasure. 

The first thought that surfaced turned his stomach. Alexandra’s warning rang in his head: _don’t come if you don’t have to. You’re paid to get them off, not to enjoy yourself. Save it for ones who want it or take care of it at the end of the night_.

Betty curled up against him and laid her head on his chest. He pulled her closer, resting his cheek on her hair. He knew they were under a time constraint but he didn’t care. If he was going to continue to do this, he _needed_ to enjoy himself; he _needed_ to connect with the women he was having sex with. It was as much for their benefit as his: if he liked them, he wouldn’t have to pretend to be enjoying himself. And wasn’t that better for everyone?

Alexandra was furious, of course, when he escorted Betty back out to the club a full hour after they’d left. Betty kissed him, without hesitation or restraint, before stroking his cheek and returning to her table, where the older man sat drumming his fingers impatiently. 

Will’s face still felt warm as he walked over to the bar and sat next to Alexandra, ordering a water and downing it quickly. The crushing grip on his wrist left him gasping, tears stinging his eyes. 

“Forty minutes, not an hour. And you smell like sex. Didn’t you wash up? How are you going to get another client stinking of someone else?” 

“I’ll figure it out,” he murmured. One stipulation in the contract was that he would bring in a minimum amount of money, which equated to a minimum amount of clients per night. Anything over that minimum, he would earn 15% of the profit. It was still strange to think of his body as a commodity that others wanted, but it only cost him his pride and dignity to earn money. He could survive that.

Alexandra finally released him but he didn’t dare touch his wrist or even look at it. It throbbed painfully as blood began to circulate and the bones settled back where they were supposed to. He kept his head bowed as he drank two more glasses of water, trying to quell his nausea. He would be faring much worse on the street on his own, but that didn’t make his treatment any easier to stomach. He belonged to the House as long as he wanted to work there. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” a sultry voice snapped his head up. A well-dressed woman with a very expensive necklace around her neck moved closer to him, pressing against his side. “I’m Melissa.” 

Pure terror washed down his spine; it had only been about 20 minutes since Betty; he didn’t have the strength to perform again so soon. “Graham,” he offered, hoping to keep Melissa talking. 

He bought himself about ten minutes, then Melissa’s hand settled high on his thigh and squeezed, her fingers sliding around his inner thigh to thumb at his dick, which pulsed with interest. “I believe that’s enough foreplay, don’t you?” 

He nodded dumbly, allowing her to pull him to his feet and guide him toward the back rooms. “I’m paying for double time; I don’t like to be rushed,” she told the guard before pulling Will into his room. 

He leaned in to kiss her but she frowned and held him off with a hand on his chest. “I’m not interested in kissing. I want to see what I’ve paid for.” Her hand turned and before he knew it, his shirt was unbuttoned and being pulled from his shoulders. Melissa made quick work of his zipper, pushing his trousers and underwear down to his feet. “Mm, nice.” 

He fumbled out of his shoes as Melissa removed her dress, gloves, stockings and shoes, beckoning him onto the bed. He crawled over her, his lips touching her throat before she impatiently shoved him down to her stomach. “I prefer your mouth down there.” 

Blushing furiously, he scooted down the bed and between her parted thighs, kissing her lips softly. Her sigh encouraged him and he took his time, as she wanted, until her thighs clenched around his head and her pleased moan echoed in the room. Without a word, he slipped his fingers inside her, rubbing his thumb over her slick clit, enjoying her shocked expression.

He shifted up to his knees to lean over her breast, taking one tight nipple into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth as his hand kept up a steady rhythm. Fingers dug into his hair and she pulled him tight against her breast, smothering his nose against her skin as he took as much as he could into his mouth and sucked, using his tongue to worry at the tip. 

He brought her off with his hand and then again with his mouth, loving the feel of her body convulsing around him helplessly. His jaw ached and his tongue was tired, but he angled himself down her stomach in preparation, when she grabbed his hair and yanked him upward. Flinching at the pull against his scalp, he moaned as her lips crashed onto his, parting his lips to tease his tongue along her lower lip. 

“Please. Please,” she begged between deep kisses, her legs squeezing his waist mercilessly. He blindly reached for the condom basket on the table, sending them spilling onto the floor as he found one and hastily pulled it on. 

Her mouth was relentless, hungry and passionate and needy as he pushed inside her, swallowing down her moan as he began to move. 

He had been able to keep his arousal in the background, concentrating on the mechanics rather than the emotions behind the acts, but now he let loose, matching her passion and urgency. 

It didn’t take long for her to clench around him, a long, drawn-out moan and her body shaking in his arms. He didn’t let up, forcing her to another quick orgasm as he succumbed to his own, ending in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heavy breathing. 

She laughed, then groaned as they separated, immediately pulling him back for another bruising kiss. The kisses eventually gentled to soft touches, her fingers playing with his sweat-damp hair. He rubbed his thumb along her wrist, bringing it up to his lips and kissing her pulsepoint. 

“I would love to have you to myself for a month,” Melissa purred as she bit at his collarbone, then soothed the slight sting with her tongue. “I’d be hard-pressed on whether to keep you in bed or show you off to all my friends. They’d die of jealousy. I’d die deliriously happy, finally finding a proper substitute for my inadequate husband.” 

Her words shook him, not just about being married, but about wanting him for a month. He was having a hard enough time worrying about making quick connections with women. He couldn’t wrap his brain around the idea of being…kept. 

“I’m sure your husband loves you very much,” he offered with an uncomfortable smile, not knowing how to handle this type of small talk.

She scoffed, an ugly sneer momentarily turning her expression dark. “He married me for my money. He doesn’t want children to siphon any of his inheritance away, so when he does have that itch, it’s over so quickly I don’t even notice his weight on me. You, my lovely…”

She slotted their mouths together and her hand slowly trailed down his chest until her hand curled around his soft dick and gave it a firm squeeze. He flinched and hissed, overly sensitive but she persisted, ignoring the tears that formed in his eyes. She seemed to delight in them, stroking him in agonizing slowness. 

She dragged pained sounds from him, the ones that didn’t stick in his throat or chest. It took forever, but eventually the pain faded and pleasure began to creep back into her touch. He uncurled his fingers from around her arms where he’d been gripping her, seeing the white marks that would fade into bruises. 

“You’re the devil,” he gasped as her hand sped up, forcing him to hardness despite his body’s protest. 

“I’m greedy,” she replied loftily, licking across his nipple and taking it between her teeth, biting down until he grunted and tried to push her away. She relented only to take bits of flesh between her teeth, leaving random patches of wet, sensitive skin across his chest and abdomen. All the while, her hand twisted and stroked, splitting his attention between that and her mouth which was now attacking his neck and jaw. 

He sucked in air and blew it out shakily as she played his body, sweat gathering between their bodies and at the small of his back, his hips shifting restlessly beneath her. 

“I wonder how long I can keep you like this,” she mused as she looked down at her hand wrapped around his thick, hard dick. “Can you keep yourself from ejaculating?” 

The matter-of-fact tone of her voice contrasting with her crude words sent his head spinning. “I don’t—I can’t…no…please…” he begged but her hand slowed despite his protests. 

“I think you’ll do as I ask,” she answered primly, straddling his thighs to restrict his hips’ movements and continued to work him slowly, her touch now a light tease. “I’ve always wanted to try this, but my husband doesn’t believe in women having an opinion, especially in the bedroom.” His chest heaved as he felt a thin, sharp line drag up his dick—her _fingernail_ , he realized and let out a sharp, high sound of distress. 

“I was to lie on my back and let him have his way with me, not that he bothered much with that. Do you know what it’s like to go eight years without love? Without happiness?” He shook his head against the pillow but was only responding to the tone of her voice, his entire focus on _not coming_. 

To his relief, her hand abandoned his dick and her weight settled over him, her lips touching his as she whispered, “You’ve given me more pleasure tonight than eight years of my marriage. And you’re going to give me more.” 

To his shock, she grabbed his dick and sank down onto it, every muscle tensing in an effort not to come as her expression blossomed into rapturous pleasure. 

He dug his fingers into her hips, his muscles aching as he tried not to thrust up into her undulations. He concentrated on the sting of her nails biting into his chest, her weight bearing down on him as she leveraged herself up on her knees, an agonizing slow drag on his dick as she sank back down and then shifted forward. 

“Please,” he begged breathlessly, turning his upper body to the side in the hopes of rolling them over, but she was stronger in her desire and pressed his shoulders onto the bed. 

She used the new angle to start a new rhythm, a little faster than before but not enough to get her off quickly. Will groaned and held onto her hips tighter, trying to make her move, but she leaned down and nipped at his throat, her warm breath gusting along his sweaty skin. “Not until I’m ready,” she ordered softly, the threat clear. 

The consequences of not satisfying a client were unpleasant and he couldn’t afford to take the chance, so he bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself and closed his eyes from the vision of her breasts swinging just in front of his mouth. He slipped his hands from her hips, up her sides, to cup her face in his palms and kiss her, pressing his tongue between her lips. She whined and sped up her movements as the kiss deepened, slick and wanton and heady. 

“Please,” he murmured against her lips, feeling the hitch to her breathing and the forceful slam of her hips down onto his. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and held on tight as his vision swam in dizzying alarm, hovering at the edge of coming and not knowing how to stop it. “ _Please_ , I can’t…” he begged plaintively, letting the tears fall from his unbearable torment. 

Melissa became a wild woman, riding him hard and fast, gasping, “Beautiful,” as her orgasm overtook her, her nails carving deep into his chest, drawing blood. The sharp, unexpected pain constricted the breath in his lungs, distracting him from the clench of her body around his sore dick. 

He felt warm liquid sliding down his heaving chest and prayed it was sweat, but the smell of blood reached him, curdling his stomach. He lay as still as possible, focusing on the pain instead of the powerful need to roll them over and thrust into Melissa’s body until he was spent. 

He couldn’t hold back a groan of pain as she pulled off of him, leaving his dripping wet dick exposed to the cool air, further tormenting him. He felt her hand smoothing back his hair but his vision was blurry with tears and need. He could only tip his face in her direction, lips parted with his soft moans of distress, hoping that his silent pleading would be enough. 

“I’m _very_ pleased,” she praised him, her tone suggesting a pleasant horseback ride rather than sex. “You may relieve yourself.” 

He stared after her as she rolled off the bed and went to the wash basin, calmly unfolding a washcloth and dipping it in the water. Humiliation burned his cheeks as he quickly got himself off, muffling his grunts into the pillow and hiding his tears. 

He remained facing away from her as she knelt on the bed to press a kiss to his head. Her words burned like acid in his stomach. “I’ll be seeking you out again, beautiful.” 

He hated her. He hated her for making him feel like the whore he was, but in a sick way he was relieved. She had given him the incentive to close off his emotions, not let any attachments form, no matter how fleeting, in servicing his clients. 

~.~

He was very adept with fingers and mouth, and when those were tired or the women begged him, then he would finish them off with his dick, no longer feeling the overpowering need to come himself. He would sometimes get himself off after they left, or he would ignore his dick until it lost interest, then redress and join the others out on the floor, looking for his next client. 

He was walking through the bar area to get glass of water, when a man hesitantly fell into step beside him. “Hello.”

“Sorry, I’m not interested,” Will said without looking at the man. He leaned on the bar and waited for Henri to pass him his glass, then took a long swallow. 

“You haven’t even heard my proposition,” the man persisted with a nervous smile. 

Will shook his head, barely glancing up at the man’s eyes. “I’m not into men,” he emphasized with a frown, hoping the man would take the hint and find one of the other two men working the floor that night. “John is who you’re looking for. I can introduce you…”

The man’s hand stopped Will from turning away. It wasn’t a hard grip but it was firm, exerting enough pressure on his shoulder to keep him where he was. “I’m not interested in them. I’m interested in you.” 

Will glared at the man until the hand left his body, shrugging lightly as if to remove the feel from his shoulder. “Touch me like that again and I’ll call the guard,” he threatened lightly, not knowing if the man was just that clueless or that self-assured. Alexandra didn’t tolerate her people being harassed and Will was uncomfortable in this man’s presence.

The man’s expression was contrite but Will could sense his excitement beneath the surface. It disgusted him and he turned away, downing the last of his water. He still needed two more clients before he met his quota, he was tired and it was getting late; he didn’t have time for this man’s bullshit. 

“I’m Wash, short for Washington.” Wash’s smile was inviting as he held his hand out, clearly expecting Will to shake it. 

Reluctantly, Will shook it briefly, noting the strength and clammy palms. “Graham,” he said, adding nothing and trying to look bored. Wash was wasting his time and Will glanced around the club, trying to pick his next client. 

He felt Wash’s breath against his hair as the man leaned down to whisper, “I’ll give you five dollars just to listen to my proposal. Can we sit and talk?” 

Will had difficulty swallowing. If Alexandra found out a client was offering money directly to him, he’d be punished. But it was a clear $5 for doing nothing but listening, money he desperately wanted. “If I still say no?” he hedged under his breath, keeping his gaze lowered to Wash’s shoes. They were polished, very high quality, along with the tailored hem on his trousers. Will decided Wash could afford to lose the $5. 

“I won’t pressure you. I’d just like to talk,” Wash promised, though Will had heard far too many promises made that his clients had no intention of keeping. 

Will abruptly turned and headed to an open table overlooking the dance floor, sitting where he could face the door and the guard and waited for Wash to sit down. “Money first,” he instructed coldly. 

Wash discreetly slipped his hand into his pocket and rested it on the table. Will pretended to hold his hand, taking the bill and letting their fingers trail along each other as he drew back slowly, offering a warm smile to cover the exchange. “Talk.” 

“I’ve been watching you for a few days. I know you never pick men,” Wash began to Will’s unease. “What I’m asking for isn’t all that different from what some women may have done for you.” 

A blush crept up Wash’s face and Will sat back in his chair, intentionally putting some distance between them and discreetly slipping the bill into his pocket. There were few things that both men and women could do to him and Will wasn’t interested in most of them. “Women don’t do anything for _me_ ,” he explained quietly. “I take care of _their_ needs.” 

Wash folded his hands on the table, Will guessed to stop their trembling. The nervous flush had spread to Wash’s neck, but he seemed determined. “Haven’t any of their needs involved _your_ needs?” 

Will rubbed at his temple to ease away the headache that was forming. He wasn’t in the mood for mind games. “Tell me what you want to do to me,” he snapped, trying to keep his voice low. He didn’t want to draw any more attention his way. It was already unusual for him to be talking to a man. 

Wash matched his volume, but the words struck Will as if they’d been screamed. “I want to suck you off.”

The air stilled in Will’s lungs, his heart beginning to pound in his throat. “Why would you pay for that?” was the first thing his mind focused on. There were clubs on the strip that catered to male…friendships. Wash didn’t need to pay for what he wanted; any guy in those clubs would be eager, for free, Will was positive. 

Wash stared at the tabletop, his fingers tightening as he clasped his hands tighter. “I can’t risk being seen in the specialized clubs. I have a…reputation to maintain. This is more discreet.” Eyes flicked up to meet Will’s, heated and with a yearning that nudged itself beneath Will’s armor. “You’re extremely attractive. You know that already, of course. Everyone probably tells you that,” Wash dismissed quietly, but Will found himself leaning forward, intrigued and scared. He wasn’t contemplating letting this man go down on him. He _wasn’t_. 

Heart in his throat, Will reached across the table and placed his hand over Wash’s tight fist. “Tell me exactly what you want. I don’t need graphic details, just…” 

“I want to kiss you,” Wash murmured, eyes roaming Will’s face. “Undress you slowly. Sink down to my knees in front of you, touching skin. Always touching your skin. I want to swallow you down, hear you, smell you, taste you. Watch you as orgasm overtakes you. Feel your hands clench onto my shoulders to steady yourself. Rub myself off on your stomach or hips, whichever you’d like. Smear my come into your skin. Breathe the heat of your skin in. Kiss you again. Redress you with my spunk still drying on your skin, knowing you’ll go to your next client smelling of me.”

Will didn’t think he could ever get hard because of a man, but his dick pressed uncomfortably against his zipper, clearly interested in what Wash was describing. Will was still hesitant, but when it came to mouths, he wouldn’t notice a difference. He _would_ notice a dick rubbing against his stomach, and the idea of letting come dry on his skin was mildly nauseating. But it wouldn’t take the full 40 minutes and he could get back out to secure his last client of the night that much faster.

With extreme trepidation, Will squeezed Wash’s hand. “You’ve told me everything you intend to do?” 

Wash licked his lips and Will’s gaze was drawn to the movement; to the full, plump lips that would probably feel amazing around his dick. His dick twitched in agreement and he breathed out through his parted lips, not making a sound, but he felt Wash’s heavy gaze on his mouth. 

“That is everything I want to do, yes,” Wash insisted. 

There was a niggling worry at the back of Will’s mind about the lack of mention of condoms, but _he_ wouldn’t be the one sucking or swallowing. He’d been checked out by the doctor last week and given a clean bill of health. He couldn’t know or trust anything this stranger told him, but Alexandra urged them to use their own judgement in situations like this. 

Still uneasy at the thought of letting this stranger suck him, Will asked, “What about protection?” 

He stared into Wash’s eyes, reading the hesitancy and resignation in them before Wash relented, “If you insist on a condom, I’ll let you wear one, though I’d prefer it if you didn’t. It would dampen the experience for me.” 

Will shied away from the hurt emanating from Wash, but it was about protecting them both. Will was educated enough to know that condoms did more than prevent pregnancy. “If I agree to this,” Will began, his stomach executing a twisting flip at the delight that shone from Wash’s grey eyes, “ _If_ ,” he reiterated, “It’s a one-time deal. I won’t do it again.” 

Crestfallen, Wash pulled his hands out from beneath Will’s, startling Will. He hadn’t realized he was still holding onto Wash’s hands and was now confused as what he should do with them. He pulled them back into his lap, plucking at the worn crease in his trousers. 

“Do you insist on the condom?” Wash asked quietly, a desperate hope coloring his words. 

Will swallowed back the answer that sprang to his lips, tamping down on his empathy that wanted to give in to the pleading man before him. “Yes,” he bit out, keeping his eyes downcast as to not see the disappointment he knew would be in Wash’s gaze.

It was a long, excruciating moment before he heard Wash’s quiet, “I accept.”

Will was on his feet in a heartbeat, unable to curb his eagerness. Whether it was to get this over with or to rush to the experience, he didn’t want to analyze too closely. 

Wash followed a few steps behind him, trying not to look like they were headed in the same direction. But Will knew that Alexandra had eyes on the floor and all of his coworkers were staring at him. Whenever he took a woman to the back rooms, she was always on his arm. He felt his face burning as he waited by the guard, deliberately looking away from Tony’s raised eyebrow as he took Wash’s money and watched them go into Will’s room. 

Wash kept his word: slow, deep kisses and the slow removal of Will’s clothing started their encounter, Will trembling in his arms as he felt the burning rasp of stubble against his cheeks and neck. 

What hadn’t been part of Wash’s description was that Will would be laid out on the bed, Wash half-knelt over him, trapping their body heat between them. It took Will long moments before his muscles untensed and he was able to relax enough to lean into the gentle touches Wash was bestowing on him. He was used to lavishing attention on women’s pleasure points, learning what patch of skin made them tense and moan, but to be on the receiving end was unsettling. 

Will hadn’t known the skin just below his ear was that sensitive, or the indents along the base of his spine. Or the hollow of his throat. His short, surprised moans filled the air which each new discovery, his hands clenching on Wash’s shoulders as the man slowly worked his way down Will’s body.

Will’s dick was hard and leaking and still trapped inside his trousers, Wash having made no move toward granting him relief. He moaned and shifted beneath Wash’s hands, hoping to urge him to move faster. 

What Will succeeded in doing was earning a nip to his bicep, a small gasp escaping as Wash licked a path from the crook of his elbow up to his shoulder, nuzzling at the edge of his armpit. Small nips and sucks trailed lazily across Will’s chest, dipping down to suckle at his aching nipples for far too short a time before returning to lave at his neck. 

Will’s hands gripped at Wash’s head, fingers tangled in his hair as he tried to guide Wash where he wanted him, but the man was stronger than Will was and only bit harder in answer to Will’s silent demands. 

Frustrated and desperate, Will breathed, “Please,” though he didn’t know why his begging would work when it hadn’t with his other clients. They seemed to delight in his agitation, eager to see him lose control until he shamelessly begged to be allowed to get them off. 

Wash surprised him by cupping him through his trousers, sending Will spiraling down into his arousal. Panting, wild, _needful_ , Will pulled Wash up to him, devouring his mouth as his hands grabbed at Wash’s ass, holding Wash to him. 

Will rocked his hips, instantly stilling as he felt the familiar shape and heat against him. Wash’s dick. Something dark ignited inside Will as he met Wash’s heavy-lidded gaze, desire sparking between them. Carefully, Will rolled them onto their sides and Wash allowed it, curiosity shining in his eyes. Maintaining eye contact, Will reached down between them and curved his hand against the heavy weight of Wash’s dick. It was odd to feel the familiar shape not but _feel_ it, his expectations thrown off and confusing him. 

The quiet sigh and the softening of Wash’s eyes burned through him, urging him to touch. It wasn’t something Will had ever aspired to; to learn the feel of another man’s dick, but between the barrier of clothing, it felt safe to explore. 

Tentatively, Will fumbled with the button while shivering at Wash’s hand pulling down his own zipper. Will shakily breathed out as Wash’s fingers maneuvered their way inside his open fly, rubbing along his shaft. 

“Let me touch you,” Wash murmured, kissing along his jaw. 

Will angled his head back, giving Wash more access to his throat as he pushed his hips into Wash’s hand. It was permission enough and Will inhaled sharply as a hand curled around his dick and teeth set themselves against his throat, not biting but pressing, giving the impression of teeth against his skin. 

Will was on his back again, gasping at the rough slide of his trousers against his skin as they were pulled down his legs. Wash paused to take off his shoes and socks, rubbing his thumbs into Will’s arches and up along his calves, crawling over his nearly naked body like a predator.

Will forgot to breathe at the sight of Wash hovering over his underwear, tented obscenely with his barely touched dick, the cotton damp with his pre-come. Any misgivings or trepidations were swept away as Wash removed the last barrier, exposing Will’s dick to the air and Wash’s hungry gaze. 

Will half sat up and buried his fingers in Wash’s hair, drawing him up for a messy, deep kiss, feeling the shift in the air as he was pushed gently back onto the bed, mouths never separating. 

Wash settled over his body, chest to thighs and Will arched up, groaning into the kiss as his dick rubbed against Wash’s trousers and Wash’s dick dragged along his hip. This wasn’t what he’d agreed to but now it was all he wanted, the air rushing out of him as Wash’s weight pressed him into the bed. 

“No,” he whined as Wash relinquished his mouth, gasping at each bite that followed Wash’s path down his chest and stomach, pausing at his abdomen. Will lifted his hips eagerly, hands scrabbling at Wash’s shoulders and back as Wash blew warm air across his dick. 

Will was lost in his arousal, skin overheated and sweaty, but he curled in on himself when Wash’s mouth wrapped around the tip of his dick, a strangled sound falling from his lips. He clamped his hands on Wash’s shoulders as Wash pushed down his shaft, perfect suction and perfect moist heat leaving him weak and shaking. 

Wash’s mouth was relentless, slow and deliberate and achingly perfect until Will lost all sense of time, feeling as if he were floating out of his skin. His legs were spread to give Wash more room to lick at the inside of his thighs, suck his balls, tease at the hidden dark places that Will should feel ashamed for begging to be licked but he no longer cared. He was a taut string of desire, coiled and ready to snap, but still Wash played him, suckled him deep into his mouth then delicately licked at the head, pushing Will higher and higher until surely his skin would burst like an overripe tomato. 

Will grasped onto Wash’s hair, forcing his head down onto his dick, _needing_ to come. He was on the razer’s edge of pain and pleasure, his body shaking as Wash swallowed him down, and his vision whited out as he came down Wash’s throat, feeling the pulses when Wash swallowed around him. 

Will was boneless and limp, delirious and gasping for breath when he felt his leg being pressed onto the bed and Wash rutting into the crease of his thigh. He blinked sweat out of his eyes, breath hitching at each drag of Wash’s dick over his skin. A dull pain made itself known beneath the heel of Wash’s hand digging into his abused nipple, pushing the air out of his lungs until he was lightheaded. 

A deep, guttural moan accompanied Wash’s orgasm, Wash grabbing onto his dick and aiming it at Will’s abdomen as he spent himself. Rather than collapsing heavily as Will had done, Wash braced himself over Will’s stomach, spitting out what had to be Will’s come onto the mess and began to rub their combined mess into Will’s skin. 

Will’s stomach heaved at the disgusting display and the equally disgusting feel of it being smeared into his skin, but he had agreed. Belatedly, he realized that Wash hadn’t used a condom when sucking him off, but he’d been too lost to his arousal to notice. Will struggled to keep his nausea off of his face as Wash’s fingers continued to massage his skin, Wash clearly lost to some other place with his soft, dream-like expression. 

Will endured it, staring up at the ceiling and cataloguing the stings, aches and pleasant looseness of his muscles as he came down from his high. Having Wash suck him off had been enjoyable, but he was reluctant to admit even to himself that he’d liked the feel of Wash’s dick rubbing against his own. The weight of Wash’s dick in his hand wasn’t unpleasant either, just strange. 

With a sigh, Wash seemed to come back to himself and began kissing his way up Will’s chest. Will squirmed as his oversensitive skin was abraded by Wash’s stubble, remembering too late what the last part of Wash’s desire was. Will tried to not to grimace as Wash swept his tongue into his mouth, tasting bitter and salt. Will didn’t want to swallow but had no choice as Wash held his hair and continued to suck at his tongue, one hand lightly against his throat as Will swallowed. 

Wash hummed his approval, finally releasing Will and shifting to lay beside him, idly rubbing a finger along Will’s swollen nipple. “You enjoyed that,” Wash noted smugly. 

Fighting the urge to shove Wash off the bed, Will turned and placed a soft kiss to the side of Wash’s mouth, using it as an excuse to roll onto his side and dislodging Wash’s hand from his chest. “I did,” Will admitted, “But I stand by what I said. This was a one-time deal.” He kissed Wash again to soften the blow, allowing Wash to deepen the kiss, knowing it would be the last time he’d have to taste the traces of come from anyone’s lips. 

When Will glanced at the clock as he climbed out of bed, he bit back a scream: almost the full 40 minutes had passed and he still had to get one more client before he could sleep.

He endured Wash redressing him, resisting the urge to scratch at the drying come on his stomach. He kept his lips soft and pliant as Wash kissed him one last time, trailing his hand down Wash’s neck to rest at the base of his throat. “Goodbye,” he murmured against Wash’s lips, watching him leave. 

He made sure Wash wasn’t going to come back into the room, then splashed some water in the basin and scrubbed inside his mouth, wishing he had something to eat to obliterate the taste left on his tongue. He wet his hair and ran a comb through it, arranging his clothes the way he liked them. 

When he emerged from his room, Tony smirked at him and taunted, “So, finally let a guy fuck that ass?” 

“No,” Will answered flatly, narrowing his eyes. “He wanted to blow me, but I told him it was a one-time deal. He agreed never to approach me again, so keep an eye out, will you? I have a suspicion he’s not through with me.” 

Tony knew him well enough to trust his instincts and sobered immediately at Will’s words. “I got your back,” Tony promised him and some of the tension left Will’s shoulders. 

Sighing heavily, he trudged back out onto the floor, both hoping and dreading finding his last client of the night. 

~.~

There was a different feel to the air when Will went out on the floor several weeks later, his skin crawling as he made his way to the bar. Henri was supposed to be tending that night, but a stranger greeted him with a sneer. “You got money?” 

“I’d like water, please,” he asked, not rising to the bait. Until he could talk to one of his coworkers or Alexandra, he wasn’t going to risk pissing anyone off.

“Five cents.” The hostile attitude had Will nodding and thanking him anyway, walking over to the tables at the edge of the dance floor. 

He sidled up to Rene and asked her quietly, “What’s happened?” 

Her eyes were red-rimmed as if she’d been crying, but her makeup was impeccable, hiding any trace of tears. “Alexandra’s gone. No one knows why. A new guy’s taken over. Abel.” She nodded her chin toward the far end of the bar, where a man in an expensive three piece suit lounged against the bar. 

Will’s blood ran cold. Everything about Abel screamed _control_ , reminding him of Mason Verger. Will quickly counted up the money he had stashed in the floor. It would be enough to live on for a while back in Baltimore, but he’d need a good paying job to survive. He needed to give notice before he could leave, but he dreaded the confrontation of facing a new boss with the request to quit. It wouldn’t go over well; he didn’t need any extra insight to know that. 

Will conjured up his best seductive smile and began his circuit of the room; if he brought in extra money that night, then Abel might be more open to his request to leave. Of course, it could backfire and Abel would demand he earn that much every night, thereby exhausting him, but it was a chance he had to take. 

He was so distracted by his upcoming conversation with the new House Boss that he was able to take on two extra clients that night, only able to get hard enough to make sure the women were fully satisfied, his dick softening when they left. 

Tired but determined, he entered Alexandra’s old office to meet his new boss when it was his turn to report on his earnings for that night. “Twelve clients tonight,” he declared proudly. 

“How long you been here?” Abel’s voice was low and gravely, as if he’d shouted for most of his life and had ruined his vocal cords. 

“Seven months,” Will replied, his confidence slipping. “And a week, maybe.” 

“You got regulars?” Abel barked, marking something down in Alexandra’s book. 

“Three,” he answered, beginning to sweat. The room was small with no windows and the single light over the desk heated the air, making it difficult to breathe. 

“Says here you only ever took one guy as a client, two months back. Why’s that? Don’t you like dick?” Abel asked, chuckling darkly. 

Curling his hand into a fist, Will felt the heat of a flush creep up his neck. “I negotiated my contract with Alexandra. She agreed that I would only take women clients. I don’t need men to make my quota every night,” he defended himself. 

“Well, she ain’t here no more and I don’t got no contracts, so you’re going to take whoever wants you. Got it?” Abel stared hard at him, small piercing eyes boring deep into his soul, leaving a blackening tar trailing behind them. 

Will tried to argue; opened his mouth to protest, but his voice failed him. He nodded, defeated and shuffled out of the room, completely forgetting his determination to quit. 

Thankfully, Will’s reputation for not taking male clients protected him for a few days, until it became clear that Abel had tired of the men’s hands-off attitude toward him. 

Will uneasily made his rounds of the club, seeing Abel talking to different men at the bar and glancing his way. He charmed a woman into being his first client of the evening, staving off any confrontations for at least 40 minutes. 

His stomach lurched when he returned to the floor and saw Abel heading straight toward him with a man at his side. “Mark, this here’s Graham. He’ll take good care of you.” 

Mark was several inches taller than Will and a good fifty pounds heavier, but Will put on his best smile, not giving into the fear that rolled his stomach. Until Abel leaned closer to Mark and muttered, “If he doesn’t, you let me know and I’ll take _care_ of him.” 

Will had no doubt Abel would make good on that threat, but rather than letting fear blind him, he tilted his head to look up at Mark flirtatiously from beneath his lowered lashes. “So, what do you like, Mark?” 

To his immense relief, Mark chuckled and slapped Abel on the back. “You picked good.” Mark dismissed Abel with a wave of his hand, leaving Will alone with his very large, very male client. 

Will wet his lips before sucking the lower one between his teeth, something he’d seen Rene do to distract her clients from what they truly wanted from her, so she could manipulate them to something she was comfortable with. 

“I’m not really into pretty boys,” Mark admitted in a much quieter voice than his booming words with Abel and Will felt the knot between his shoulders begin to loosen. 

“Do you want to sit down and talk about what you do like?” Will offered, easing up on his flirtations. 

Mark scrutinized him but Will held his head high, not letting himself be intimated. Mark seemed to approve and nodded slightly. “Yeah, I think we can work something out.” 

Mark may have been a friend of Abel, but the more they talked, the more it became clear to Will that Abel had pressured him into being there. Will felt an affinity with Mark and was able to discuss what it was that Mark actually wanted, nervous but relieved that it was only a blow job. Anal sex was “too messy and too intricate,” something Will did not want to know but at least that meant Mark wouldn’t try it once they were out of Abel’s line of sight.

Will had never given a blow job but he’d received several, and he’d never forgotten what Wash had done to him. “If you don’t mind some inexperience, I’m ok with going down on you,” he said, wiping his palms on his trousers beneath the table. 

Mark looked unconvinced. “I know Abel talks big, but he wouldn’t do anything to you if I said no.” 

Will’s fingers were around Mark’s wrist before either of them could blink. “Please,” Will begged quietly. “He’s made it very clear that if I don’t start taking male clients, he won’t have any use for me.” 

Mark studied him and Will let some of his fear bleed through his tight control, feeling that he could trust Mark at least that much. 

“All right. Let’s go.” Mark stood and Will followed, feeling Abel’s eyes on him until they crossed the threshold into the back rooms. 

Tony, thankfully, was still there and gave Will a hard look as he took Mark’s money. Will managed a fleeting smile as he followed Mark his room, assuring Tony this was what he wanted while desperately trying to convince himself. 

“You mind kissing?” Mark asked as Will closed the door. 

“No,” Will breathed out, unable to get his breath back as Mark swept him straight into an open-mouthed kiss, tongue and teeth trying to map all of Will’s mouth at once. 

Will held onto Mark’s arms and slowly eased the kiss down to something he could manage, turning it from something savage into something seductive, curving his limbs around Mark and grunting as his back hit the wall. 

Mark had said he didn’t like small, weak men, but Will felt anything but strong as he was picked up, carried, and dropped onto the bed, Mark immediately covering him with his heavier weight. 

Will slicked his tongue against Mark’s, giving as good as he got as his hands worked the buttons on Mark’s shirt. Mark tossed his jacket aside, then impatiently shoved Will’s hands away to work his own trousers open, shoving them halfway down his thighs. 

Mark rose to his knees and shuffled forward, leaning his hands on the wall above Will’s head. Will’s terrified gaze landed on the dick inches from his face, wondering how in the hell he was supposed to do anything with it while he was on his back. 

He closed his eyes and breathed carefully through his nose, channeling what Wash had done to him. His eyes flew open and locked onto Mark’s, pupils blown wide in desire. “On your back,” he ordered with only a slight tremble to his voice. He shoved at Mark’s hips to emphasize his order and with a pleased grin, Mark complied.

Will became Wash, licking and sucking at the skin beneath his mouth, his fingers pinching and twisting helpless nipples, tugging gently at the chest hair matting Mark’s chest. Will ignored the pressure against his shoulders, urging him down Mark’s chest. He sucked on a chunk of flesh and bit down, grinning around his mouthful at hearing the low groan. 

He continued Wash’s journey downward, shying away from actually spreading Mark’s thighs to go any further than the dick waving in his face. With a deep breath, he tentatively licked the head, feeling it jerk against his lips. He wrapped his lips around it and eased his mouth down a fraction, testing out the stretch and taste. He held Mark’s hips down as best he could, but he couldn’t stop the motion completely. He wrapped one hand around the shaft and took the tip into his mouth, humming contentedly as he envisioned what he’d liked and replicated it. 

Mark sounded appreciative and his hands pushed at Will’s head, wanting him to go deeper but Will couldn’t. He added slurping noises and used his free hand to play with Mark’s balls, working him toward orgasm. 

Too late, Will realized they hadn’t even discussed condoms and Mark’s balls were tightening in his hands. Will didn’t want to swallow; couldn’t imagine that taste in his mouth again, so he made a decision to pull off and let Mark’s come decorate his neck and chin, some even spattering onto his cheeks and closed mouth. He kept his eyes closed during the pulses, but opened them again when he felt dribbling running down his still-moving hand, working Mark through the orgasm until he hissed and tried to roll away. 

They were both breathing heavily, Will nervous again that Mark had wanted him to swallow and would tell Abel he wasn’t satisfied. 

But then Mark looked at him and groaned softly, easing himself to a sitting position and swiping a thumb through the mess on Will’s cheek. “Damn, that’s hot,” he muttered before pulling Will into another deep, sloppy kiss, pressing Will back onto the bed. “How’d you guess I’d like that?” 

Will wasn’t going to admit to not wanting to taste, so he grinned, letting his eyes sparkle with mischief. “It’s my job to know what you want,” he said, tilting his head back so Mark could see the rest of his handiwork. 

Will didn’t mind it being rubbed into his skin this time, because the alternative was much more unpleasant. But Mark stopped after only a few strokes, dragging his hand down Will’s still clothed chest to his trousers, where his soft dick lay against his thigh. “Didn’t you get off?” 

“That’s not what you pay for,” Will answered quickly, confidently, hoping Mark wouldn’t demand it of him. “I’m here for your needs, not my own.” 

“Damn,” Mark said again, so softly Will had to read his lips. When Mark bent down to kiss him again, it was a gentle, inquiring type of kiss, asking rather than taking. 

Will groaned his approval and hooked his ankle around Mark’s, giving him some leverage to push his hips upward. He didn’t really want to get off, but he wanted Mark to know he appreciated the man’s observation. 

He was hot and sweaty in his clothes, but Mark didn’t show any signs of wanting to stop kissing him, so Will relaxed back onto the bed and offered up his mouth, content to let Mark lead. 

When Mark wasn’t trying to show his dominance, he was a damn good kisser and Will shifted restlessly beneath him, his lips swollen and sore from the gentle nips they’d been given. Will’s hand was grasping at the back of Mark’s shirt, the other tangled in his hair as Mark shifted his attention to Will’s jaw and neck, continuing the light nips and sucking kisses. 

Mark groaned softly into his neck, “I’d love to fuck you,” sending Will’s already rapid heartbeat into meltdown. Mark sighed against his neck, nuzzling his face to press against Will’s skin. “Maybe next time, huh?” 

Will couldn’t even fake a smile, so terrified at the thought and wondering how he could leave without having Abel and the Organization coming after him. He knew if he tried to run away, he’d be hunted down and made an example for the other workers. He could try to give his notice now, but he’d still need to survive three days under Abel’s watchful eye. 

He gave a noncommittal sound and rolled his hips upward, hopefully giving Mark what he needed. With a last kiss, Mark abandoned him on the bed and set to work straightening his clothes. “You said you never sucked cock before?” 

“I asked if you minded some inexperience,” Will reminded him, leaning up on his elbows and watching beneath lowered lashes as Mark got dressed. “That doesn’t mean I’ve _never_ done it, just that I might not be as good as you’re used to,” he lied easily.

Mark slipped on his jacket, leaned over Will and kissed him, forcing his mouth open and slicking against his tongue. “I’d love for you to suck me off again, but I’m not as young as I used to be. Don’t get old, Graham,” he admonished quietly, rubbed Will’s belly, and left the room.

Will collapsed back onto the bed and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, wishing he could erase the last half hour of his life. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t _good_ either. And now that Abel knew he _would_ , he’d get more male clients shoved his way, and there was no way he’d be lucky enough that all they’d want was his mouth. 

Will turned in his notice that night, saying he was needed back at home and had made enough for the train ride back to DC. Abel snarled and cussed him out, demanding two weeks, rather than the standard three days, since he had ‘lost’ all the original contracts and that’s what the new contracts required. Stunned and terrified, Will nodded meekly, knowing Abel would make sure to get every last dollar he could from his overworked body. 

Will saw long nights ahead with thirteen, maybe fourteen clients a night. He would be exhausted and sore, but knowing it was coming to an end gave him the strength to keep going. 

A god he didn’t believe in must have been looking out for him, because the only man that approached him over the next two days couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. Will went down on him with a new enthusiasm, making sure the condom was in place so he didn’t have to worry about swallowing or ruining another shirt.

The next night, his luck ran out. 

It started normally, with a discussion of what was expected and wanted, mutually agreed upon. Will was nervous as he always was when it came to sucking a guy, but just like Mark, just like Wash, Charlie took his time kissing him, relaxing him, easing him down onto the bed and slowly undressing him. 

It was then that things went to shit. Instead of sliding Will’s shirt off, Charlie stopped with Will’s arms trapped against his sides, keeping all his weight on Will so he couldn’t free his arms. Sucking bruises became sharp bites, squeezing skin between teeth until Will felt his skin break beneath the pressure and warm blood trickle across his skin. 

Will didn’t dare call for help. Tony was no longer the guard for the back rooms. Abel had replaced him with one of his own muscle after Will turned in his notice. No matter what happened, Will’s cries would fall on deaf ears. 

Will tried to moan with the pain, hoping Charlie would believe him to be enjoying it, but the bright, cold eyes staring down at him had no soul behind them. “You want to fuck my throat?” Will asked, trying to inject as much seduction as he could into his voice. “Hold my head and force me to take your dick?” 

It sickened him but seemed to ignite something wild in Charlie, as Will’s arms were freed with the ripping of his shirt. Will threw all his weight against Charlie and pinned him to the bed, capturing his mouth and biting at his lips, frantically thinking how he could get out of this without further injury. 

Charlie’s grin was bloody when Will released his mouth, Will unable to stop from being tossed onto his side and Charlie on top of him again. Groaning, Will suffered under Charlie’s mouth biting down his chest, leaving bloody, stinging trails down to his stomach.

Unable to stop the tears, terrified of what Charlie was going to do to him next, Will struggled to free his arms, but Charlie had a firm grip on his wrists, twisting them cruelly when Will bucked beneath him. 

“Gonna fuck you so good,” Charlie murmured into his skin, the knot of terror intensifying until Will was shaking with it. “Gonna ruin you for anyone else.” 

Instead of struggling, Will let his body go limp, no longer resisting what Charlie wanted to do to him. It seemed to excite Charlie more, making him overeager and reckless, releasing one of Will’s wrists to tear at his trousers, forcing them down to Will’s thighs. Will waited, barely breathing, as Charlie released his other wrist to turn him over, and that’s when Will struck. Kicking out his legs, he sent Charlie to the floor. Will dove for the other side, shoving his hand into his mattress and locating his father’s pocket knife he’d hidden in there. He secured it in his grasp as Charlie reached down and pulled him up by his hair, all of Will’s focus on flicking open the three-inch blade and aiming it at Charlie’s neck. 

With a satisfied grunt, Will jammed it into the side of Charlie’s neck, watching blood spurt in long arcs and splatter over his arm. 

Charlie gurgled and clutched at Will’s hand, but Will held firm, determined to see the life leave Charlie’s eyes and know for certain that he was safe. He followed Charlie down to the bed, kneeling awkwardly beside the twitching body. Charlie coughed up blood, sending it spraying over his face and chest, the bed and part of Will’s shirt, but he was still breathing.

Will twisted the knife, widening the hole and dispassionately watching as another gout of blood gushed out over his hand and soaked the bed. Will began a rundown of what he needed to pack, where to hide his money, how much time he had to clean up to be able to sneak past the guard, if he needed to kill the guard or if it would enrage Abel further, and how far he would have to run to hide from the Organization. 

Far too quickly for Will’s satisfaction, Charlie’s death throes ended with a soft exhale of breath. Quickly wiping the blade on the bed, Will set to work stripping off his ruined clothes, washing off the blood and redressing in his suit. He stuffed the remainder of his clothes and toiletries into his bag, retrieving the money from his hidden floor board and sliding it into his socks, then pulled on his shoes. 

He looked around for something heavy, settling on Charlie’s work boot. It had a thick, heavy sole that would have to do. Will opened the door a crack, seeing where the new guard was. Blocking the entrance to the back rooms with his wide shoulders, Will only had one escape – through the secret back door in Abel’s office. Alexandra had shown it to him when the threat of a police raid had them in lock down for a day. The odds of Abel being in his office during the evening hours were slim, but Will wasn’t taking any chances. With his bag in one hand and the boot in the other, he hurried to the back of the long hallway and pressed himself into the shadows, barely breathing. 

The guard didn’t turn around, there was no light under the door, so Will turned the handle and swung it open, hefting the boot in preparation of throwing it. No one was in the cramped office so he ran to the secret panel, pushed it and slid through the opening. He closed it quickly, blinking his eyes at the utter blackness that surrounded him. He had no matches or lighter so he felt along the wall, shuffling his feet so he didn’t trip over uneven flooring or miss a step. It was slow going but Will held onto his patience, working his way further and further away from the hell that had become his life, until finally his hand touched something solid directly in front of him, blocking his way. He searched until he found a handle, turned it, and blinked at the streetlight that blinded him. 

Holding back tears, he raced across the street, dodging cars and cabs until he was well on the other side of town, eventually stumbling onto a block that had a shelter with the lights still on. He raised a trembling fist and knocked on the door, all but collapsing into the arms that opened it. 

He was taken inside, given a hot cup of soup, and told he was safe. It was the catalyst that broke him, a wail sticking in his throat as the events of the night caught up to him, what he’d done, what he’d endured, and what he’d had to do to survive the past eight months. He curled up on the bench, clutching his bag and the blanket that was draped over him, and shivered until he fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams haunted by blood and teeth and cruel laughter.

The next day, he was hitching back to Baltimore. At least there he knew the streets; knew who he could trust. He curled up in the back of the truck as it barreled its way to the Baltimore city limits, letting his mind rest, even if his body couldn’t. 

Something clenched in his gut as he caught his first glimpse of the faint city skyline. He waited for a curve in the road and jumped off the back of the truck, retrieving his bag from the tall grass. He walked until he found a barn and crawled up into the hayloft, falling into an exhausted, deep sleep. 

Farmer found him the next morning with a dog curled up along his back, watching over him. He made a deal to work the farm in exchange for food and shelter. He’d missed the fall harvest, but rucked out stalls and fed the cattle during the winter, helped plow and seed the fields in spring, and worked side by side with the farmer and his other paid help to bring in the crops come the end of summer. He turned 20 during the height of summer heat, too occupied to notice. When he left the farmer and his wife, he’d earned $500 more, had put on weight and muscle, and had a new set of clothes to wear. 

Putting the past behind him, he hitched the rest of the way into Baltimore, secured himself a cheap room and bought himself a decent suit and a new dress shirt. He ignored the propositions called out to him as he walked through the downtown clubs, standing outside the symphony and watching as patrons spilled out after the performance. It wasn’t long before he chose his client, a bored young woman tagging along with her parents. 

He wasn’t after sex, only companionship. Flirt with the wealthy daughters, get them interested, compliment them and offer to be a buffer to deflect their parents’ ire at them wasting their lives. He started without a hope of a return, but he needed to establish himself as a friendly face willing to be seen on their arm with no strings attached. 

The offers to pay for dinner or show tickets came later, and the gifts even later than that, but soon Will had earned his reputation as a discreet gentlemen caller whom even parents approved of…mostly. 

He had a closet full of tailored suits his wealthier clients had demanded he wear when seen in public with them, two actual tuxedos – one with tails, several hats, two pair of white gloves, dozens of cufflinks, rings, pocket watches, shoes, toiletries, shaving kits…

Whatever the women wanted to lavish on him he accepted graciously and kept a log of who had purchased what for him so he always made sure to wear the proper outfit. 

They did not, however, offer him money. He took a modest fee to cover dinner or dessert after a performance, but would rather accept the gifts. Trading money for his services would draw the attention of the Lecter Family, accusing him of taking away their clients and profits.

So, the weight he’d gained while working on the farm slowly faded, but he was mostly content. He had stacks of books to read whenever he wasn’t actively looking for a client or involved with one, learning about high society etiquette and manners, so different from what he’d grown up with. The more sophisticated he learned to be, the better his clientele, and the higher quality his gifts. He didn’t dare sell them but kept them in a false bottom of his armoire, not trusting his housemate. 

Women talked and recommended him to their friends, giving him enough business to stay off the streets and out of the back rooms, which is all he wanted.

Then fate threw him in front of the one man who caused the most nightmares in his youth. Don Hannibal Lecter introduced himself to Will’s date, Arabella Degrass, then turned to ask his name. Will saw an opportunity and grabbed it with both hands. His gaze slid slowly downward to linger on Lecter’s pinky ring, embossed with the Lecter crest. “At your service.” 

The End


End file.
